


saudade

by juliansweigl



Category: Men's Football RPF
Genre: M/M, everybody needs a friend like thomas, it ends happy though i promise, this turned out to be a lot angstier than i intended, thomas is such a good friend
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-04
Updated: 2018-12-04
Packaged: 2019-09-06 17:51:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,905
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16837477
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/juliansweigl/pseuds/juliansweigl
Summary: the four times that Bene sends Mats the Brazilian flag emoji and the one time Mats figures out why.





	saudade

**Author's Note:**

> hi! i'm back! with a one shot about hömmels (otherwise known as the loves of my fucking lives).
> 
> i hope you enjoy it!
> 
> [tumblr](https://hoewedeshummels.tumblr.com)

**I**

Mats is incandescent.

From the minute that he had woken up this morning, he just _knew_ today was going to be a terrible day. He can’t explain the mood but his head is pounding and he’s irritable. He stays in his car for a few minutes longer than he should be, his hands gripping the steering wheel until his knuckles turn white, breathing in and out, trying to calm himself down before he accidentally scares the younger players once he’s in the dressing room.

It doesn’t work. _Nothing_ works.

Mats sighs and accepts that he’s just going to be an asshole for the entire day; he slams his car door a little too harshly, wincing at the sound before locking the vehicle. He barely offers a grunt when he passes staff, he throws his bag down onto the bench with more force than is completely necessary and Joshua squeaks from beside him but Mats doesn’t respond. Instead, he drops down to the bench and leans forward with his elbows on his knees, eyes closed as he pulls at the longer strands of his hair.

“ _You need a haircut_.” Bene had told him absentmindedly the night before.

Mats had promised to get one before he flew out to Moscow. Bene humoured him but deep down they both knew that Mats wasn’t going to get a haircut because he knows better than anybody that Bene _loves_ it when his curls are longer and he’s able to twist them around his fingers when they’re lying in bed.

Two deep breaths and the slightest hint of tension lifts from his shoulders. It’s not enough to erase his ghastly mood though, he doubts nothing will be.

Deep down, Mats knows the cause of his bad mood is possibly (probably), his long-distance relationship which have never been high up on Mats’ relationship wants and the fact it’s fucking _Moscow_ makes it so many times worse. Mats insisted they could handle it, how could they not? Mats and Bene had been through a hell of a lot worse than being separated by two different countries. Except now it’s November and Bene has only been in Moscow for four months and Mats is struggling with barely seeing the love of his life in person.

Of course, he would rather take his deep, underlying insecurities about their relationship to his grave than voice them to Bene because Bene seems _happy_ in Russia and Mats would suffer a whole lot worse if it meant Bene was happy.

Someone slaps Mats on the shoulder and he glances up to see Thomas towering over him, the usual goofy grin on his face nowhere to be seen but his eyebrows are furrowed and his forehead creased as he looks down at Mats with concern etched upon his face.

Mats figures he must be painting a pretty pathetic picture if Thomas is overly-concerned.

“I’m okay.” Mats manages to choke out, his voice hoarse and barely believable.

“You’re not.” Thomas disagrees, his hand pulling on the shoulder of Mats’ coat. “You’re pretty fucking far from okay.”

Mats doesn’t argue because Thomas isn’t wrong, instead Mats bites back the sarcastic comment that comes from years of being friends with Thomas and lets it slide, shrugging.

“I’ll get over it.” Mats finally settles on a response, forcing a smile that comes out more of a grimace but he stares at Thomas until he feels his friend’s hand release his coat.

“Talking works.”

Mats doesn’t get a chance to respond because by the time he realises that he is not as subtle as he likes to think he is, Thomas is already walking out of the door.

**

The morning’s training session goes about as disastrously as Mats imagined it would, his concentration peaked during the first set of instructions and afterwards he couldn’t put a foot right if he tried. Its stupid mistakes that he puts down to the weather and not being able to concentrate on anything other than shivering, it’s the moment that he nearly yells at Joshua – for what? He couldn’t say. It’s Thomas staring at him with sadness and a glimmer of understanding in his eyes when Thomas skips over the half-attempted tackle that Mats puts in.

By the end of the session; Mats just wants to go home, crawl under his abundance of blankets and sleep the rest of the day away.

“Talk to him.” Thomas reiterates on the way back downstairs, his arm slung around Mats’ shoulders. “This is Bene we’re talking about, even after all these years, you _still_ underestimate him.”

Mats hates to admit he’s right, it’s not often that Thomas makes a lot of sense but sometimes small snippets of wisdom come out and it’s usually when Mats doesn’t necessarily want to hear them. It doesn’t mean he’s going to go home and pour his heart out to Bene though, that’s just not his style.

He ignores the majority of his messages on the walk back to his car until he notices a message from Bene sent within the last hour. It’s the Brazilian flag emoji, just that, no context, no typed out message alongside it. The emoji is just _there_ , staring at Mats as though Mats is supposed to have some clue what it means.

He stares at his phone for a ridiculous amount of time, his car keys in one hand as he tries to come up with a reply that isn’t as blunt as _what is that supposed to mean?_ Manuel calls out a quick goodbye over his shoulder as Thomas trails behind him to their car. In the end, Mats’ fingers are so cold that he couldn’t type out a reply if he tried so he chalks the message up to being a mistake because _why_ would Bene send that without any context?

**II**

Two days later and Mats doesn’t even want to get out of bed. He sits with his back pressed against the headboard for a long time, his phone beside him as he stares at the wall, convinced he’s having some sort of existential crisis.

It’s his day off and Mats distinctly remembers what days off used to feel like before Bene moved to Russia, even before he moved to Italy for a year. Mornings started later, Bene likes to sleep in and Mats can be easily persuaded – especially when Bene’s grip on Mats tightens and he nuzzles his face into Mats’ neck.

His bedroom is fucking cold and he knows it isn’t because of the late November weather outside his window.

He had stayed up later than usual last night, reluctant to let Bene go and for a while words weren’t needed, the two of them just staring at each other, engaging in one of those conversations that they can have with their eyes that usually frustrate everybody in close proximity to them because of their lack of understanding. Mats is certain he wants to spend the rest of his life staring at Bene any chance he gets – he can almost hear Thomas’ cackle in his head and the unfiltered _but that sounds so creepy_ coming out between laughs.

Mats sighs and runs a hand through his tousled hair, pulling at the longer curls and remembering Bene’s words about him needing a haircut – he just can’t bring himself to go and get one.

He misses Bene, of course he does, how could he not? There are no amount of phone calls or video chats or few and far between visits that could completely erase the empty ache in Mats’ chest at not having Bene within driving distance anymore. Mats knows he did the right thing by not being selfish and making Bene stay when that was all he wanted to do, grab Bene, hold him close and not let him go.

Bene craves the adventure and Moscow was a brand new adventure that was waiting for him – whilst Mats has no interest in ever playing his club football outside of Germany, Bene loved travelling. Mats doesn’t hate travelling but he would always prefer to be somewhere close to home. Also, he’s still not over the World Cup – maybe that’s why Bene moving to play in Moscow stings that little bit more.

His phone vibrates but Mats doesn’t immediately check it, it’s probably just Thomas checking up on him and he doesn’t feel like lying to benefit his friend just yet. Instead, Mats pulls at a loose thread in his sweatpants and sighs before getting up to walk across his room to the bedroom and look out. It’s raining pretty heavily, it’s not an unusual sight but Mats curses the sad irony.

The door to Mats’ bedroom is thrown open with force and Thomas stumbles in causing Mats to spin around at such speed that he almost gives himself whiplash. Thomas just smiles bashfully and waves despite Mats glaring at him.

“Your day just got a whole lot better.”

“I doubt it.” Mats half grumbles as he lifts his hand and rubs his face. “Unless Benni is behind you, my day is still going to be shit.”

Thomas immediately frowns and takes in Mats’ dishevelled appearance – granted, it’s barely eleven in the morning and Thomas can excuse Mats looking like he’s just rolled out of bed (which he definitely has) but the sullen glimmer in Mats’ eyes pulls at Thomas’ heartstrings.

“Did you talk to him?” Thomas asks though he’s sure he already knows the answer and he’s hiding his anticipated disappointment pretty well.

Mats laughs bitterly before shaking his head and avoiding Thomas’ eyes. “I talked to him but _not_ about that, he doesn’t need to know.”

“ _He’s your husband_.” Thomas deadpans, cocking his left eyebrow incredulously as he stares at Mats. “I think he should definitely know that you miss him.”

Mats pauses upon answering as he fights an inner battle. Realistically, Thomas has a good point, Mats should tell Bene that he misses him but the thought of Bene being in Moscow and blaming himself for Mats’ sadness is almost unbearable and Mats would _never_ want to inflict that sort of pain onto his husband.

“He knows I miss him.” Mats eventually coughs up, shrugging.

“You do realise you’re contradicting yourself right now?”

Mats opens his mouth to reply before frowning and pressing his lips into a thin line as he lifts a hand to brush through his hair. The two friends stand on opposite sides of the room in silence, Mats avoiding Thomas’ eyes and Thomas trying to come up with a way to prove to Mats that missing Bene isn’t a bad thing without Mats snapping at him.

“It fucking hurts-” Mats is the one to break the silence. “- I supported him, he wanted to play in Moscow and I wasn’t going to stop him but _fucking hell_ why did he have to leave me?”

Thomas’ shoulders drop and he manages to cross the room in a few long strides, his hand coming up to rest on Mats’ shoulder.

“I know I’m going to sound incredibly selfish _but_ -” Mats’ voice cracks and he inwardly curses himself. “- Can he just come home? _For good_.”

Thomas doesn’t know what to say, he isn’t the one to make this right and it kills him to see one of his best friends barely being able to keep it together. Mats is and has never been the one to be this (somewhat) open about his feelings and insecurities to anybody and whilst Thomas feels privileged, he bites back the urge to call Bene himself and force Mats to tell him this instead of him.

Thomas doesn’t realise that Mats is staring at him until he feels a jab in his ribs. Thomas just only now notices how red Mats’ eyes are, how his lips are red from where he’s been biting down on them nervously but most and regretfully, he notices the lost glimmer in Mats’ eyes and it breaks Thomas’ heart.

“He’ll be home soon.” Thomas promises.

Mats grunts but doesn’t argue, he just tiredly nods and accepts Thomas’ words whilst praying that he’s fucking right.

Mats’ phone vibrates again from where he left it on the bed and this time his curiosity does get the better of him and he goes to retrieve it. He finds out he was right about the first message being Thomas checking up on him but for the second time in three days, the Brazilian flag emoji is there in his notifications under Bene’s contact with absolutely no context.

Mats wants to ask him straight out what the hell that’s supposed to mean but he stops, maybe he’s missing something and outwardly admitting he doesn’t know what it’s supposed to mean might not be the best way to go about this.

Instead, just as he had two days ago, Mats ignores the message.

**III**

Benedikt Höwedes has a smile brighter than the fucking sun.

Mats has always known this but Bene’s face is illuminating his entire bedroom whilst Mats lies back and lets Bene retell him of the events of his day, his hands coming up and flailing every time he momentarily loses his train of thought.

“What?”

It’s not the question Mats is expecting and he stares at Bene with narrowed eyes and furrowed eyebrows.

“What?”

“What’s up with you? You’re acting-” Bene pauses and frowns as he tries to come up with a suitable adjective to describe Mats’ distractedness. “- _Distant_.” The word itself causes the frown on Bene’s lips to deepen. “Is everything okay?”

Mats pulls at a loose thread in his pillow case and shrugs. “Long day.”

“Are you sure?” Bene asks. “ _If_ you’re sure.” He adds not a moment later.

Mats wants to scream, he wants Bene to doubt him and know that’s not what is bothering him but he just stays quiet, swallowing down the familiar burn of insecurity that seems to be all he can feel recently and he presses his lips into a thin line. Bene sighs but Mats doesn’t catch it, instead the pair fall into a somewhat tense but comfortable silence.

Mats hates this. He _hates_ this.

Mats has two emotions – jubilation and anger, he’s not one to be serene or jealous (unless a situation arises in which Mats could get jealous) or insecure but here he is, feeling a mixture of emotions he doesn’t usually tend to feel and the sheer fact of the matter is that it fucking hurts. Deep down, Mats knows that Bene is the last person to judge Mats for feeling what every other human being on the planet has experienced feeling at least once in their lives but for Mats, who tends to put up a front and not indulge into long heart-to-hearts, he just can’t let himself open up enough to let Bene know that his husband is a complete mess.

“You’re not telling me something.”

It’s not a question and the stare that Bene is sending Mats causes a shiver to go up Mats’ spine despite the fact that they’re over two thousand miles from each other. It’s not the stare that Bene sends Mats after Mats breaks something or pulls something stupid after a rare night out, it’s deeper than that and it makes Mats shift uncomfortably and avoid Bene’s eyes.

“I’m not hiding anything.” Mats scoffs before inwardly wincing at the fact this was what he wanted, he wanted for Bene to doubt him. “I think it’s your mind playing tricks, it _is_ late over there.” Mats dismisses half-heartedly.

Bene scowls before his face softens considerably and he sighs once again. “I love you.”

Mats wants to cry, he wants to sit and fucking sob. It’s not as though Bene doesn’t tell him he loves him a lot because Bene tells him every day as if Mats needs to be constantly reminded that Bene has been in love with him for the best part of a decade.

His chest aches, he wants to hear Bene tell him it in person, his hand brushing through Mats’ hair the same way it has for years. He wants to be able to pull Bene into his arms and not let him go, kiss him with all the love he can muster.

“I love you, so fucking much.”

Bene raises his eyebrow and mumbles out a small _language_ that manages to bring a smile to both of their faces even if they fade after a matter of seconds.

“Two weeks.” Bene reminds him, swallowing thickly but hiding it remarkably well from Mats who exhales deeply. “ _It’s only fourteen days_.”

Mats _nearly_ does start crying.

“ _Fourteen days_.” He repeats, the words coming out barely audible but he clings to the fact that it is only two weeks, he knows he can make it through the next two weeks.

Mats falls asleep not long after, unable to fight back his exhaustion any longer and Bene sighs – what he’d do for the next two weeks to fly by so he can _finally_ fall asleep in Mats’ arms again.

Mats wakes up the next morning feeling unusually refreshed. For once, he doesn’t wake up with a sinking feeling in his chest and a frown on his face. It’s a welcomed feeling as Mats scrambles for his phone from the bedside and checks his notifications, it’s still too early to even think about getting out of bed so he doesn’t – he just sits back and scrolls through twitter.

He checks his messages next and ignores the ridiculous messages that come from Thomas, his night-before-game-day insomnia and three-thirty in the morning. His eyes dart to his message thread with Bene and for the third time in the last week – a Brazilian flag is the last message he received from his husband– Bene has only sent it within the last hour and it’s really starting to bug Mats now. Mats wishes he understood what Bene is hinting at but he doesn’t – he thinks, _hopes_ he’s referring to the World Cup, maybe he’s feeling sentimental.

Maybe he misses how things were four years ago when they seemed a hell of a lot simpler than they are now because Mats sure as hell does.

**IV**

Mats didn’t think he would be thankful for the time difference but today is an exception; he’s sitting in the dressing room, staring down at his phone and watching the last ten minutes of the Lokomotiv Moscow game, his eyes darting to Bene whenever he’s in shot. Thomas is leaning over his shoulder and watching the game with him.

Despite Mats’ initial reluctance to have Thomas look out for him, it seems that Mats is _finally_ coming around to the idea that Thomas just wants the best for him and despite how annoying Mats might find his over-concern, he doesn’t actually resent it.

“You’re such a good husband. Manu won’t even watch replays with me.” Thomas murmurs lowly, hoping his boyfriend doesn’t hear him but he does.

“I watch you from my goal. I don’t _need_ to watch the replays.” Manu chimes in, barely glancing up but the hint of a smile is tugging at the corners of his lips.

Mats is distracted that he doesn’t notice what’s happened in the game until the hand that Thomas has on his shoulder gets tighter and Thomas sucks in a sharp breath. Mats immediately refocuses his attention on the game and more specifically a crowding of Lokomotiv players. Mats feels the familiar burn of panic rising in his chest when he can make out between the crowd of players the number five of Bene’s jersey.

“What the fuck happened?!” Mats cries.

Thomas just shrugs. “I wasn’t watching.”

Mats’ hand starts to shake violently, his phone nearly slipping a number of times before Thomas snatches the device and holds it. Mats isn’t sure where to look so instead he settles for pulling at his hair and staring at the floor until Thomas mumbles ever-so-softly that Bene’s up and Mats asks for proof. Mats stares at his phone, watching Bene gingerly walk off the field and to the sidelines.

Mats doesn’t want to let go of his phone and Thomas has to practically manhandle his friend to take the phone away from him and shove it in Mats’ bag before Mats can complain anymore. Mats is on edge, he needs to know whether Bene’s okay, whether his husband is seeing the game out, he doesn’t need to be thinking about Bayern’s own game kicking off in a matter of minutes.

Mats tries to reach for his phone but Thomas slaps his hand away and glares at him.

“He’s fine. It’s Benni for Christ’s sake.” Thomas tries to reassure Mats but frowns not seconds later in understanding. “Just focus on our game, okay? He’ll probably text you as soon as he can.”

Mats nods but the unfocused, nervous expression on his face doesn’t cease.

Mats eventually _does_ manage to focus himself enough that he won’t be making stupid mistakes throughout the match. He thinks about Bene and how Bene would scold him for worrying about him instead of concentrating on his own game and that’s enough momentum for Mats to throw himself into Bayern’s game.

It doesn’t mean he doesn’t have a moment’s lapse in concentration; he’s too far in his own head that he misjudges the flight of the long ball sent forward from the defence and he lets the forward slip by him after making a half-hearted attempt to stop him. Mats freezes, he can’t move himself to chase down the forward and make a crucial tackle – he just stands and watches as Manu eventually bails him out before spreading his arms out and mouthing _what the fuck_?

Mats just holds up a hand apologetically before turning around, grimacing at his lack of concentration.

He doesn’t know how he manages to make it to halftime without making another mistake that could’ve been a lot costlier than it eventually turned out to be.

Thomas slaps him on the shoulder as he passes him, sending him a small smile that Mats tries but can’t reciprocate. He knows his heart isn’t in it, he hates how distracted he is but he just can’t bring himself to give his all.

It’s dragging him down. He sighs as he slumps down, running a hand through his hair and pulling a little too harshly at the longer strands. He takes deep breath after deep breath to steady the way that his knees are bouncing in the way they only ever do when he’s nervous.

He can’t continue the game, he knows that much, his heart is beating far too fast for him to be able to run back out onto the pitch for the second half, his hands are shaking and he can feel the throbbing in his head and the thrumming in his ears. Mats screws his eyes shut, pressing the palms of his hands against his eyes to try and get rid of the overwhelming feeling pushing against his body.

He doesn’t remember how he gets here. How he has the Bayern medical staff staring at him with concern in their eyes but he does register the pain in his head and that his hands are gripping the hem of his jersey so tightly that his knuckles are turning white.

“ _Benni_.” Mats mumbles to nobody in-particular.

As he starts to refocus; Mats can hear the loud, chanting, screaming of the crowd coming from the stadium. He can hear the excitement bubbling around the crowd, the crowd becoming louder and louder, the deep sigh that accompanies what must be a broken down attack.

Mats drops his head, staring down at the floor as his chest tightens. He needs his phone, he needs to know if Bene’s okay, he needs to hear his voice, he needs to calm the fuck down.

He rushes back into the dressing room and rummages around his bag for his phone, he ignores his brother’s message asking why he got subbed off at halftime and finds Bene’s name, he calls him without hesitating.

“Mats?”

“Benni?”

“Are you okay?” They both ask at the same time, dissolving into relieved laughter just seconds later.

“Your game, you went down-” Mats mumbles; it’s a habit that Bene actively dislikes but it doesn’t do anything to help because Mats just continues to mumble. “- What happened? Are you okay?”

“I’m fine.” Bene reassures him. “I just got taken out, nothing I can’t walk away from. What about you? Subbed off at _halftime_?”

Mats scratches the back of his neck and laughs nervously. “I don’t know… I think I might have blacked out? I can’t remember.”

“ _Mats_.” Bene sighs softly.

“I love you.” Mats tells him, urgency to his voice. “I love you, I do, you know I do.”

“I love you too, darling.” Bene muses and Mats feels an overwhelming sense of relief wash over him at Bene’s words.

Mats leaves the stadium before fulltime on the advice of the medical staff and normally Mats would argue but he just nods solemnly and makes his way out to his car so he can drive back to his flat. His phone lights up on the passenger seat whilst he’s stopped at the traffic lights. Mats can vaguely make out the green, yellow and blue and smiles to himself.

He doesn’t even have to second guess who the message is from.

**V**

It’s an agonising two weeks, a horrible flight to Moscow and an unexpected but unwelcomed arrival in the midst of a Russian winter for Mats but he’s finally here. Mats can’t explain the warmth in his chest at being less than an hour away from seeing his husband for the first time in fucking weeks, it’s been so long and Mats admits that he’s suffered enough.

Mats’ feet crunch in the snow as he walks, his hands shoved in his pockets and his scarf wrapped so high around his face that he can barely breathe due to the wool. He messaged Bene the first chance he got after getting off his flight but he’s yet to get a reply, it doesn’t bother him though, not when he’s so close to _finally_ being reunited with him.

Bene’s house is small but _so_ Bene and Mats can’t help but smile as he stands at the front of the house, slowly he walks up the steps and grabs the spare key from under the mat – despite Mats telling him so many times that it’s not a good idea to leave it under there. Mats turns the key in the lock and throws the door open, the lights are off and the house is cold. Mats frowns as he enters, shutting the door behind him and dropping his bag to the floor.

“Benni?!” He calls out through the house but he doesn’t get a reply.

Mats shrugs his coat off and hangs it up before turning the lights on. He almost wants to laugh bitterly at finally being in the same city as his husband and his husband is nowhere to be found. He walks into the kitchen and finds a note on the counter with his name on. Mats grabs it and scans through it quickly, sighing at Bene having a press day to do but the initial frustration wears off Mats’ shoulders pretty soon after that – it’s not as though it’s Bene’s fault.

Mats wanders through the house, it’s not as though he has anything better to do – he finds the sweater that he thought he had misplaced a few months back hanging up in Bene’s wardrobe and tries to stop the smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

He makes himself coffee before retreating into the living room and sitting down on the couch, immediately kicking his legs up to rest on the coffee table – another habit that Bene doesn’t like but he’s stopped trying to get Mats to stop resting his legs atop of it – knowing full well he’s fighting a losing battle.

Mats turns the TV on and pretends he can understand Russian TV whilst he drinks his coffee. It’s the most relaxed that Mats has been in weeks and it’s more than overdue. He leans back and glances around the living room.

He sees it.

He finally fucking gets it.

His eyes land on the photograph above the small fireplace. It’s Mats’ favourite photograph of himself and Bene that has ever been taken. It’s the photograph that was taken just after they’d won the World Cup in Brazil. They have their arms around each other and even though their teammates are celebrating around them and Julian Draxler is beside them. Mats remembers only having eyes for Bene, Bene only having eyes for Mats, both of them only having eyes for each other, in Brazil as the new World Cup champions.

Mats’ heart swells and a familiar but warm feeling twists in his stomach as he leans forward to place his coffee cup on the table and walk closer to the fireplace, staring up at the photograph. The memories of Brazil start flooding back almost immediately and Mats remembers the day they beat Argentina as though it was yesterday. The memories still so clear in his mind.

“It’s my favourite photograph.”

Mats jumps, spinning around to find Bene standing beside him with a small smile on his face and pink cheeks from the blistering cold outside.

Mats grabs Bene and pulls him into his arms, grabbing a fistful of Bene’s sweater whilst trying to pull him as impossibly close as he can. Mats nuzzles his face into Bene’s neck and laughs breathlessly. Bene just holds him, brushing a hand through Mats’ hair and sighing contentedly.

“I love you.” Mats whispers before pressing a kiss to the underside of Bene’s jaw. “So much. More than anything.”

Bene smiles as he releases Mats and lifts a hand to brush across Mats’ cheek. Mats shivers at how cold Bene’s fingers are but Bene doesn’t pull away, he just traces Mats’ cheekbone with a feathery touch.

Mats can’t take it anymore so he surges forward and kisses Bene as though his entire life depends on it, both of them stumble and Bene can’t stop smiling despite Mats’ words of _stop smiling and kiss me properly_ vibrating against their lips. Mats has his hands tangled in Bene’s sweater – which looking at it now is Mats’ sweater but he’s willing to let it slide.

Bene manages to guide them over to the couch and falls backwards, pulling Mats on top of him.

“The flag – the emoji – you wanted me to ask you what you meant – so you could show me that picture – you missed me.” Mats breathes out between kisses.

“I missed you, darling.” Bene whispers softly but he frowns soon after. “I didn’t know if you missed me as much as I missed you.”

“Are you fucking kidding? I missed you every second of every day. _How could you think I didn’t_?” Mats doesn’t intend for his voice to trail off to sound so small but it does and his chest tightens at Bene thinking that Mats didn’t miss him.

“You always avoided it, you never _told_ me you missed me. If it wasn’t for Manu-” Bene tries to explain but Mats holds his hand up.

“Manu?”

“I think Thomas told him.” Bene shrugs, fiddling with the hem of the sweater.

“ _Thomas_.” Mats groans. “That bastard.”

Bene smiles so Mats leans forward and kisses him again, wrapping Bene in his arms as though he’s afraid if he lets go that Bene is going to disappear. Bene twists so that he can face Mats and is able to intertwine their hands as he leans forward.

“Estou completamente apaixonado por você.” Bene whispers softly.

Mats could cry. Bene has said those exact words to him only twice in their relationship – the first time they were celebrating their World Cup win and Mats doesn’t remember hearing clearly but the second time he heard them and he hasn’t forgotten them since.

The music was resonating off the walls, various players dancing at different levels of drunkenness. Thomas was dancing on the table, a bottle of vodka in one hand and a bottle of beer in the other as Manu tried desperately to grab the bottle of vodka from Thomas’ hand but Thomas wasn’t letting go that easily.

Mats is a terrible dancer but he doesn’t care; the alcohol in his system in full effect as he spins and bumps unapologetically into various teammates, his hand intertwined with Bene’s as he pulls his boyfriend in each and every direction. Bene finally catches up to Mats and encircles an arm around his boyfriend’s waist, leaning up so that his lips are dangerously close to Mats’ ear.

“ _Estou completamente apaixonado por você_!” He shouts, trying to make himself heard over the music.

Mats just smiles and nods but it’s clear that he doesn’t have the slightest clue what Bene has just told him. Instead, Mats just grabs Bene by his shoulders and kisses him, ignoring his teammates’ by flipping the lot of them off and only worrying about Bene and how much he loves him and the World Cup trophy that he’s only just let go of.

They’re all hungover, groaning and sighing and falling asleep on the floor with their heads buried in various teammates’ laps. A delayed flight back to Germany is not what any of them want but it’s what they’re stuck with and despite his hangover – Mats is determined to make the most of this post-World Cup final bliss that he has with Bene before they return back home for more celebrations.

“ _World Cup champions, Benni. How fucking cool is this_?” Mats asks, laughing, it still sounds absurd.

Bene just hums in agreement, looking out of the window of the departure lounge. They’re World Cup champions for Christ’s sake, he should be full of jubilation and bouncing off the walls but he’s in a solemn mood. Brazil has essentially been a safe haven these last few weeks, away from the prying eyes back home.

“ _Are you okay_?” Mats asks, reaching forward and curling his hand around Bene’s wrist. “ _Benni_.”

“ _Estou completamente apaixonado por você_.” Bene whispers, making sure to keep his voice low but loud enough for Mats to hear him this time.

“ _I don’t know what that means_.” Mats frowns.

Bene smiles as he twists his fingers in the bracelet on Mats’ wrist, the bracelet that’s identical to Bene’s. Bene’s chest is full as he glances up and lets his gaze fall on Mats who is giving him an adorable look of confusion.

“ _If you just insulted me in Portuguese-_ ” Mats starts but Bene immediately shakes his head and leans forward, his hand still wrapped in Mats’ bracelet.

“ _I am completely in love with you_.” Bene repeats.

Mats grabs hold of Bene’s hand and brings it up to his lips so that he can kiss his hand.

“Você me completa.” Mats tells him earnestly, lifting a hand to brush his fingertips along Bene’s jaw before leaning forward and letting his lips hover over Bene’s. “You complete me, Benni. You always have.”

It’s Bene who closes the gap between them. They make out lazily for a while, Bene’s hands in Mats’ hair until he pulls back and narrows his eyes at Mats.

“You _still_ need a haircut.” Bene tells him.

Mats jabs him in the ribs before pulling him back for another kiss.


End file.
